Girls' Night Out
by Sarcastic Realist
Summary: It's Padme's eighteenth birthday... what happens when a certain Jedi shows up? Obidala. Chapter Two...
1. Chapter 1

**Girls' Night Out**

"Your Highness, are you sure-"

"Yes, Corde, for the seventh time, I want to do this."

An almost-eighteen-year-old Padme Amidala frowned at herself in the mirror for a quick moment before allowing her giddiness to take over and gleefully adjusting her garments. Much simpler than her ornate 'Queen attire', she fully intended to enjoy her eighteenth birthday by taking her closest handmaidens out to a popular Coruscant nightclub. Her innovative apparel now consisted of a soft black shirt and a skirt that stopped just above her knees, with thin-strapped sandals on her feet, the small heels accentuating her long legs and the toned muscles in them. The shirt was long-sleeved, reaching down to her wrists, but short in length, exposing most of her stomach. A tiny, silver zipper was pulled down a fraction of the way, creating a plunging neckline.

Padme grinned to herself. Never before had she thought she'd ever be so daring.

"M'lady? Are you ready to leave?" Corde inquired hesitantly.

"Yes."

"Thank the stars! We've been waiting forever!" Sabe complained, to which Corde winced and Padme grinned again.

"It's okay, Sabe," Padme reassured her friend. "Dorme! Are you coming?"

"Yes, m'lady" came the muffled reply from behind a closed door, and the young handmaiden appeared.

Padme nodded at her three closest friends and confidently strolled to the door, grabbing her purse and hurrying to the airspeeder Captain Panaka had given her; along with a resigned and deliberate "I'm not even going to ask as long as you're not going alone" glance.

Happily, she had informed him it was her eighteenth birthday and she was going out and no one could stop her; she would sneak out if she had to, and to not expect her back until the next afternoon. One of her decoys was taking her place for the next twenty-four hours, she would be fine, and to ask Corde if she didn't come home.

"M'lady, would you like me to drive?" Sabe asked, opening the door for her to the cool Coruscant night air.

Padme gaped at her in a most unfeminine way. "Not a chance!"

**OBIDALAOBIDALA **

"To being Queen!" Corde, Sabe, Dorme, and Padme squealed, and giggled hysterically before downing their shots of Corellian scotch. Padme, in first, was at five shots; Sabe following shortly behind at four, Dorme at two, and Corde just finishing her first, vowing to stay sober.

"One of us has to," she declared with an air of one as the oldest, most responsible child. Eventually, Padme coaxed her into drinking one.

"It won't hurt," she insisted, shoving the glass toward her "Besides, it's not like anyone will arrest us."

Corde gave her a wary look and consented. "Fine."

Now, beginning to get bored, even at two in the morning, Padme sat back on her stool and surveyed the club through quite impaired vision. It wasn't long, however, before she was sure she spotted a familiar face, attached to a slim, very sexy figure. In seconds, she had determined that it was indeed moving toward her, and, suddenly feeling nervous, she pun awkwardly around on her stool and hissed in Sabe's ear.

Sabe screeched and whirled around, unceremoniously falling off her stool and onto the floor. Padme gasped and choked on her laughter; that combined with the large amounts of alcohol in her system caused her to fall as well- but not onto the floor.

"Perhaps her Highness has had too much too drink?" A low, equally sexy voice rumbled in amusement, clearly belonging to the figure.

Padme flew out of a set of strong arms, eyes wide. "Master Kenobi!"

The young Jedi's lips quirked up in a smirk. "Your Highness," he acknowledged quietly, edging away. "I trust you are having a fine evening."

"Don't let him go!" Dorme burst out, then clapped a hand over her mouth when she realized she had spoken aloud. Corde winced.

Padme blushed furiously. "I am indeed," she agreed softly. "I'm sorry you had to rescue me; honestly, I am quite capable of taking care of myself."

"I see." Obi-Wan's tone of voice did not hide his obvious doubt, and Padme giggled.

"Would you like to join us, Master Jedi?" she asked without thinking.

"Obi-Wan," he corrected, "but I'm not sure that's a very good idea."

"Obi-Wan." Padme tested the name on her tongue and found it delightful. "We would love for you to join us, unless of course you have a previous… engagement."

In the background, she could hear whispers and more giggling, and she stifled a laugh.

"Well now, I couldn't very well decline an invitation from the Queen, could I?" Obi-Wan smiled, taking a seat beside her. "Very well, your Highness, I accept your request."

She shook her head. "Padme."

"Alright, _Padme_," he enunciated carefully. Padme felt a thrill run through her upon hearing her own name on his lips. He grinned. "Shall I buy you another drink?"


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter Two**_

The thing was, Padme finally decided in her alcohol-induced state, when you were drunk, things that normally appeared, well- just that- normal, were not really normal at all. And, she concluded, she probably would never think it normal ever again.

That thing was Obi-Wan Kenobi.

_And he was hot. _

Padme sighed in disgust.

"I want to go home," she grumbled, and Obi-Wan grinned at her.

Corde scowled at the Jedi. "Don't encourage her. You shouldn't even be here. Padme, are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," Padme swallowed with difficulty.

"I don't think you are, M'lady," Obi-Wan contradicted her gently, although he was also not quite fully sober. "Corde," he continued, sweeping the table in just one glance, "why don't you and… uh…" he trailed off, confused. He could never get the names straight. They all sounded the same; _stars;_ they all _looked _the same, save Padme. The most beautiful of all of them.

"Dorme and Sabe," Dorme supplied helpfully, nodding to herself and the third handmaiden.

Obi-Wan bobbed his head, drawing in the information for further reference. "Why don't you head back," he proposed, "I can take care of her Highness tonight."

Corde's mouth dropped open. "Master Kenobi, are you actually suggesting that-"

"Corde," he soothed, "You have my word as a gentlemen that I will not act in any way inappropriately to her. In case you have forgotten, I am a Jedi, and my intentions are by no means anything other than honorable."

Corde still didn't look convinced, but Dorme quickly piped up, "That would be wonderful, Master Jedi. Thank you for your assistance." Obi-Wan nodded. "Come on, Corde, Sabe, let's go. We need to be ready for tomorrow." At the last minute, she hung back and whispered in Obi-Wan's ear, "You know she wants you, go for it," winked, and disappeared into the throng.

He stared back at her, shocked, until Padme pulled on the sleeve of his cloak. "Obi-Wan."

"Yes, M'lady?"

She gave him a reproving glance. "Relax."

He eyed her. "Do you dance?"

"I'm drunk."

"Not completely. And besides, I will probably embarrass myself as well."

Padme laughed. "In that case…"

**OBIDALAOBIDALA**

Padme wasn't quite sure how she ended up back in her bedroom with a Jedi Knight attached to her lips, but with the things he was doing with his hands and tongue, she really didn't mind all that much.

Her hands roamed his lean body, hastily pulling off robes and layers of tunic until he stood nearly naked before her. He, in turn, explored her curves thoroughly, his fingers trailing from her shoulders down, grazing her sides, to her hips, and finally coming to a stop on her thighs where they rested for a mere second before traveling back up and proceeding to pull down the zipper of her jacket and tug it off.

At her sharp intake of breath, he covered her mouth with his, caressing her lips with his tongue.

Various items of clothing fell in a steady stream to the floor; Padme ran her fingernails down Obi-Wan's back, lightly scratching. The Jedi couldn't suppress his groan, and unconsciously began plotting his revenge as Padme pushed him against a bare wall, wrapping her legs around his waist. Her hips rocked.

"Oh, stars, Padme…" he ground out and tore off her bra. His lips skirted across her collarbone. She cried out his name.

Obi-Wan carried her haphazardly to the large, king-size bed, where he commanded her to lie flat on her back.

Padme gazed at him with wide brown eyes as he slowly, meticulously, torturously dragged her skirt off, along with her shoes and remaining clothing. His staggeringly blue eyes proclaimed endless adoration; his hands displayed the same tenderness. His touch was like fire on her skin, burning hot.

Straddling her gently, he leaned over her and began dropping kisses from her neck down to her navel, where she squirmed underneath him.

"You, Master Jedi, are overdressed," she complained softly. And with a flick of her wrists, he was shed of the constricting boots and trousers…

**OBIDALAOBIDALA**

"Good morning, m'lady" was the first thing Padme heard when she woke up with sparkling blue eyes smiling at her.

"Mmm…" she snuggled closer, "Hello."

Obi-Wan relished the feel of her body heat under the blanket and ran his hand along the smooth curve of her spine with a smile.

Padme arched her back invitingly.

"Ahh… Padme…" he mumbled, kissing her long and slow. "My love."

"I like the sound of that," she teased, changing positions and moving down on the bed to brush her lips back and forth across his navel.

A knock. "M'lady? Are you awake?"

Padme cried out in surprise, poking her head above the blanket gingerly. She looked at Obi-Wan in horror, who, much to her surprise, was laughing silently, his shoulders shaking. The sight of his laughter sparked her own, and she could barely manage to snatch in a breath to say, "I'll be out when I'm ready, Corde."

**THE END**


End file.
